


Bubbles

by notapepper



Series: Near Miss (Canon Based) [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Minor teeny tiny language, Spoilers 1x22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:37:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notapepper/pseuds/notapepper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-Shot. FitzSimmons' first interaction, followed by Simmons' POV from the end of 1x22.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubbles

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
> 
> Feel free to stop reading halfway through if you don’t want to feel sad.

_Hiss_. The tab on the top of Fitz's soda can cracked like thunder in the cavernous lecture hall.

"Shhhhh!" came a self-important whisper, one empty seat over.

Fitz narrowed his eyes without turning his head. "Shhhhh yourself."

If he had to sit through the same S.H.I.E.L.D. welcome video he'd already streamed from the website a dozen times, he'd at least do it without going thirsty. He poured his Dr. Pepper over the leftover ice in his travel mug, grateful they'd turned the lights out for the slide-show and nervous that someone would notice his smuggled concessions.  Fitz watched the bubbles escape into quick-popping foam and poured in the rest.

"Where did you even get that? We're not meant to have fizzy drinks in here!" It was the same chastising voice as before, a hushed English accent coloring the vowels.

"I only brought the one..."  _You need to mind your damn business_ is what he meant, but Fitz wasn't about to be rude on his first day of Academy orientation. His mum had taught him better than that. He glanced to the left, but in the dark, it was impossible to see much more than a delicate profile framed by large, loose curls.

 _Thin, possibly pretty. Better hedge my bets_. "D' you want some crisps?" He held out his package of Zapp's, and the crinkling bag was like the world's loudest cat toy.

"Snacks, as well? This is a government agency, not a slumber party." Her words, still so soft under her breath, were railroad spikes in his ears, and he thought he caught her muttering judgy things about unprofessional conduct.

_On second thought, not pretty. A hag, maybe. A wrinkly old tart, jealous of my crisps._

A proctor walking past glared pointedly down their row.

"Hey, please be quiet," Fitz admonished his dimly-lit antagonist. "Some of us are trying to watch the video." He heard a frustrated noise of disgust and felt his mouth yank up in a smirk.

-o-

Simmons gasped herself awake, eyes wild as she realized she was trapped in a glass box. Her first thought was that Fitz would make a joke about Snow White.

Fitz. The explosion. His sacrifice. Her rescue. Memories flooded back, unwelcome.

She'd risen through the water. Too fast and not fast enough. Without sufficient oxygen, she'd been forced to swim up 90 feet of watery panic at top speed. As the pressure dropped, the nitrogen in her blood - and Fitz's - had bubbled out. Tiny, terrifying, death-dealing bubbles that blocked blood vessels and put them both at risk. Heart attack. Stroke. Ruptured vessels in their lungs. Simmons could recall studying "the bends" a lifetime ago, a plucky young biochemist preparing for her field assessments. Stupidly, she'd never imagined that knowledge would apply to her.

Stupid. Jemma Simmons had never felt like that before.  _Stupid_. She replayed the conversation at the bottom of the ocean, wishing she'd had just a few seconds longer, just a heartbeat more to free the words from her throat, to kiss Fitz's lips instead of his bloodied face.

 _Stupid_ , for somehow knowing what he was going to say, but not saying it first.  _Stupid_ , for convincing herself that friendship was all either of them wanted, and that it was better.  _Stupid_ , for not being able to save Fitz the way he'd saved her.

Tears leaked out while she thought of every missed opportunity. When the leak became a stream and saltwater pooled in her ears, she choked out Fitz's name like a promise. Her hands grasped for him, scraping the decompression chamber walls. And her mind felt the bubbles surround her again, remembering how she'd burst from the pod, kicking death away and holding on to dear life by the collar.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my contribution to the juggernaut of feels in the wake of the finale. 
> 
> Decompression chamber? More like DEpression chamber, amirite?
> 
> I’m currently dealing with residual anger over Fitz’s fate, but I have every confidence that the writers are going to give us a fantastic story in the Fall that will make the wait totally worth it. Also, this was my first time writing from Fitz’s POV at all, so I’d love to hear your thoughts!


End file.
